


not to worry

by preromantics



Category: True Blood
Genre: Comment Fic, Established Relationship, M/M, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-30
Updated: 2010-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-14 06:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/pseuds/preromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Comment fic. <i>Lafayette knows Jesus is anything but innocent. "While I approve of your distraction technique," Lafayette starts, almost forgetting the rest of his sentence because -- damn that boy is good with his mouth -- "we also need to slow the fuck down and talk."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	not to worry

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 8/20/2010.

It's probably absolutely fucking -- something, fucking whatever, Lafayette can't even think right now, not with the way Jesus is nuzzling at his chest, all bits of innocence when he looks up with a grin. 

Lafayette  _knows_  Jesus is anything but innocent. "While I approve of your distraction technique," Lafayette starts, almost forgetting the rest of his sentence because -- damn that boy is good with his mouth -- "we also need to slow the fuck down and talk."

Jesus raises an eyebrow at him, but rolls over to the other side of the couch anyway. "We could talk after," he suggests, easy. 

Lafayette levels him with a look, something that's always been easy. It's always been something he's proud of, the fact he can scare someone off with a look as easily as he can turn someone on. (Or so he's been told. Many times. As they walk out the door, but still, this is different.) 

Jesus laughs. "Alright," he says, shrugging, "we'll talk. You're persistent."

Lafayette leans over and kisses him, down right chaste and brief, a show of his ability to resist everything Jesus is offering -- an ability that's fading fast. He reaches out with his hand and traces the tattoo on Jesus' chest with a fingertip, staring. 

"Alright," Lafayette says, though the room has gone quiet as his CD player rotates CDs, "you need to explain yourself." 

"See," Jesus says, "now this would be a much better conversation for  _after_." 

Lafayette rolls his eyes. He gets serious, though, because everything that Jesus has hinted at, everything he is that Lafayette doesn't know about is getting in the way of  _them_ , of whatever fucked up version of a relationship Lafayette is trying his fucking hardest to get to. (It's like playing house, and Lafayette isn't five years old anymore, but he wants more than anything to play house with Jesus, to wake up to him every morning, and that's fucking scary in itself without not knowing what Jesus even  _is._ ) "Boy -- you know I don't know what you are, and that's something I need to know."

Jesus stays quiet for a minute. Music starts playing again, softly, a CD Lafayette doesn't remember having. 

"I'm yours," Jesus says, quieter. "If you'll have me." He's entirely serious about it, too, lips drawn together like they get when he's just a little nervous about something, a fact Lafayette loves knowing. 

"You know I will," Lafayette says, not even surprised at how fast and how true is comes out of his mouth. 

Jesus smiles, slow and soft and Lafayette wants to forget everything and push him down onto the couch right then and there. Jesus straightens, after, though, and levels his gaze. "Then I'll tell you -- everything," he says. 

Lafayette nods. He pulls Jesus down against his chest -- even though Jesus is broader, gorgeous, he's still warm there, comfortable, and after a moment he begins to talk.


End file.
